


This Home is Vast

by Lil_Redhead



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, a study on family and love, and how Anne has influenced Delphine, how Delphine views her Uncle over the years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 20:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21142658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: Delphine Lacroix wants to write a tale of adventure and romance, so naturally she writes the story of how Uncle Gil and Aunt Anne fell in love.





	This Home is Vast

**Author's Note:**

> When I tell you I wrote this at the speed of light. This story must've needed telling, because it refused to be squelched! Here is what I hope Delphine will grow to be, written with all my adoration and respect for growing girls everywhere. How unappreciated are our little ones who are discovering what it means to be human!

** _“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” - _ ** ** _ ** _Maya Angelou _ ** _ **

*****

**1908.**

Delphine Lacroix had a meager few memories from her very young days of girlhood. There were some things she wished she could recall, like the wide, bright eyes that her mother had and the melodic tenderness of her voice. _Sometimes it’s enough for other people to have those memories for you, _Aunt Anne had said when she was very small. _I made sure I memorized every little bit of your momma so that when I tell you stories, you’ll feel her with you._ _Close your eyes, chickadee, and I’ll tell you of her wedding day. It’ll be like she’s right here_

And it was. When Anne spun her words into yarn of gold, Delphine could close her eyes and imagine her face on her mother’s, and soft arms around around her chest. Dellie would lay with her head in Anne’s lap and listen to all the stories the freckled girl could muster, even the ones that weren’t about her mother - tales of adventure, courage, strength, and grace. She could find pieces of herself in the protagonists that Anne spoke of because,  _ It’s important to see yourself in the people you aspire to, Dellie. I see these traits in you, and I admire you for them.  _

But aside from afternoons curled up into Anne’s side, the youngest days of Dellie’s girlhood were distant from her. She wished she could write down the things she did remember, tell a story of the home she’d flowered in. 

“Uncle Gil?” she asked. From where she stood at the window, she could see Uncle Gil look up from his clothbound text and smile.

“Yes, honeybee?” 

“Do you have any empty journals in your study that I could use? I want to practice my writing.” 

Gilbert closed his book and leaned forward, always pleased to hear his niece take on new academic endeavors. Even at the humble age of ten whole years, she was as bright as both her mother and father, and had somehow learned Gilbert’s insatiable motivation. 

“Of course. Are you planning on writing one of your Aunt Anne’s tales of ‘grand adventure and romance?’”

Dellie turned around and leaned on the window frame, pursing her lips as she considered her options. 

“I want to. But I think I also want to write a story that I know, one that I lived through. I haven’t been on any grand adventures.” 

“Now that’s not true. Come here,” Uncle Gil replied, pulling her into his lap. Dellie leaned her head onto his shoulder and let out a sigh. Even when she preferred to keep her worries private, Uncle Gil had a way of snagging the truth right from her.

“All the heroes in Aunt Anne’s stories ride to far off places and battle the greatest forces of evil ever known by mankind!” 

“You’ve tamed plenty of tempests,” Gilbert countered.

“Like what?” 

“You marched right up to the Avonlea school board and demanded that you be allowed in the school with the rest of the kids. I think that was very courageous.” 

Dellie frowned, burying herself as deep into denial as she would go. 

“That was nothing.” 

“It wasn’t nothing! You’re the first child who looks like you to ever go to the Avonlea school.” Gilbert bounced her on his knee to ease her drooping mood. “What about the time those women in town were saying something mean about your mother? You poured their lemonade down their dresses.”

Dellie’s lips formed into a pout that had her Uncle Gil wrapped around her finger even from when she was a baby. “Daddy punished me for a whole day after that.”

“Because it’s impolite to ruin dresses, not because you weren’t brave. He didn’t want to tell you, but he was so proud. You’re more like you mother than you know.” Gilbert pressed a kiss to her cheek. “How’s that for a story idea?”

Delphine twirled one of Uncle Gil’s curls with her pinky while she considered this, but ultimately shook her head in adamant finality. 

“I want to save my story for when I’m older, so I can write bibliography of my life-” 

“ _ Biography _ , darling.” 

“- and make it a best-seller, like Aunt Anne’s book on Avonlea. But I think there’s one story I know just as well as my own.” 

“Oh yeah? Which one is that?” 

Delphine smiled with trickster eyes she learned from her uncle, then poked his nose. 

“Yours and Aunt Anne’s.”

*

**1899.**

Back in the days of Gilbert’s apprenticeship with Dr. Ward, the aged man had seen the weary circles beneath the boy’s eyes and cocked a brow. 

“Girl trouble?” he asked with a hint of humor. Gilbert fought the urge to shoot a panicked look toward the door, the other side of which held a very quiet secretary. Yes, there had been girl trouble - what with Gilbert trying to figure out the cause of his seemingly endless tachycardia. No, his tired eyes were not the result of his own uncertainty. 

“Delphine is teething. Poor thing hasn’t slept or eaten much in days,” Gilbert confessed. 

“That’s a simple fix, my boy. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” 

This was how the Blythe-Lacroix home had been saved by a simple scrap of paper with a list of safe, at-home teething remedies.  _ Gum massage, a cold spoon, a damp washcloth… _ At the kitchen table where he always seemed to sit with Delphine, Gilbert pulled a spoon from ice cold water and placed it into the baby’s open mouth. The tension on her tiny forehead disappeared, and her relief seemed immediate. 

“Dr. Ward acted like I should’ve known this already,” Gilbert lamented, rubbing Dellie’s back as she cooed. “But the medical journals don’t really report on anything other than bacterial transmission and obscure cases of rare disease. Where’s a fellow supposed to start with the basics?” 

Dellie took out the spoon and waved it in Gilbert’s face, before sticking it right back into her mouth.

“I suppose you’re right. I should’ve learned these things from my mother. Not like I would’ve enjoyed asking dad about these things, even if he was still around.” Gilbert paused, pressing a kiss to the top of the baby’s head. “Don’t worry, Dellie. You can always ask me anything. No matter what it is. And I’ll tell you all of my secrets so that we’re equal.”

The little baby could not know then that she would grow to share every little secret with this scrawny uncle of hers. He would know of every fear that clutched at her heart, and he would soothe them with his steady reassurance. He would let her reveal all of her misbehavings, and absolve her of her childhood guilts with forgiveness that came as easy as breathing. He would understand on the day that she’d confess that she’d fallen in love with a white boy at her college, and how desperately she wanted to earn his respect (Gilbert knew she’d already had it). Those days were a  _ long  _ ways away, but he’d know it all.

If he wanted it to be fair, he had to begin the exchange himself. So he did, with his tender words.

“Delphine, I think I’m falling in love with Anne.” 

Dellie ceased her cooing, staring up at her apprehensive uncle with understanding eyes. Gilbert peeked up at the doorway to make sure Bash wasn’t eavesdropping before quietly continuing. 

“It doesn’t feel like I thought it might. I always knew that I wanted to be around her, and that she was really pretty, but lately…” Gilbert sighed. “She’s just seriously beautiful. And  _ so  _ smart and courageous. And she’s so good with you and never has anything unkind to say about anyone.”

Dellie grabbed his finger with her whole hand and shook it excitedly. 

“I know what you’re thinking. What about that blonde lady you met one time? Winnie is...a friend. She’s charming and nice, no one can deny that. But Anne appeals to a different part of me - complements and cherishes it. She held my hand and it felt like she was  _ supposed  _ to.” He scoffed. “I don’t know, I sound absolutely ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think that’s ridiculous at all,” Bash interrupted from the doorway. Gilbert jumped, pulling Dellie a bit closer to his chest, then glared at the intruder. “Sorry, Blythe, I didn’t mean to overhear. I just wanted to check up on my daughter.” 

“I think she feels better. She hasn’t cried in a while,” Gilbert stated shortly, handing over the girl who’d reached grabby hands up towards her father. Bash settled the baby on his shoulder and sat down at the table opposite of Gilbert. The young boy looked like he was steeling himself for battle, but kept his lips locked together. 

“So...Anne, huh? Can’t say I blame you.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Gilbert said sternly, but only half heartedly, the way people quietly cry out  _ I need to tell someone _ !” 

“Why not? You’re not embarrassed are you?” 

“Of course I am!” Gilbert snapped. “Or...I don’t know. No, I’m not. At least, not because of  _ her,  _ she’s amazing. It’s  _ embarrassing  _ because I see her and…” 

“Spit it out, Blythe. It’s okay.” 

Gilbert released a shaky sigh. Then, he muttered, “These days I can barely breathe when she’s around, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from grinning like an absolute idiot. It’s entirely overwhelming and I don’t like it.” 

Bash smirked the way he did when he thought he knew something Gilbert didn’t.

“I’ll grant you that it’s overwhelming, but let me give you my advice on something. Look at this darling baby girl.” Bash lifted Delphine up in the air, and she giggled in delight. “Every time I see her, the air gets stolen from my lungs and I smile like a moke. There’s nothing more overwhelming than the love I have for my daughter, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Gilbert, your budding love for Anne with an E? Cherish it. Nurture it. Let it grow. I promise it will be worth it.” 

Gilbert turned his gaze down to the table, fighting the rising blush on his cheeks. 

“See, even little Dellie agrees?” Bash added, waving the baby’s hand. Dellie giggled as she bounced, causing a little smile to dimple the corner of Gilbert’s lips. 

“So, what do I do?” Gilbert asked after a silent moment.

“I don’t know, Blythe. That’s for you to figure out.” 

But the realization had been enough excitement for the young lad that night. He nodded, then pushed himself up by the heels of his palms. 

“I’m off to get some sleep before another tooth pops up,” Gilbert said. 

Bash placed his hand on Gilbert’s shoulder as he passed by, giving it a reassuring squeeze, then shoved the boy off in the direction of his quiet room.

*

**1903.**

Five-year-old Delphine saw things that no one else did. The endless orchard in her backyard was a vast kingdom of magical apples, guarded by tree soldiers who protected her against all the evil monsters that lurked past the corn field. Tiny faery people danced around the enchanted apples, and talked to Dellie when she was lonely and anxious for what Anne called “a bosom friend.” 

“Do you have bosom friends, Anne?” Dellie asked one day when Anne was kneading sweet bread in the kitchen. 

“I do! I’m very lucky to have a few kindred spirits.” 

Delphine tried out the mouthful of  _ kindred spirit  _ on her tongue, but was quick to remember to adhere to her point. 

“Who are they?”

“Well, for one, your uncle Gilbert.” 

Delphine jumped from sitting to kneeling in her chair with a cry of glee.

“Uncle Gil is your  _ bosom friend!? _ ” 

“Of course he is,” Anne laughed. “Bosom friends are people that know you very, very well. They’re kind to you and make you smile. They’re people who belong in your life.” 

“What do you mean  _ belong? _ ” 

Anne wiped the back of her wrist across her chin, smearing flower over her starry freckles, and thought about it. 

“Remember that Venus Fly Trap I showed you in a book a few days ago?” Dellie nodded, always paying close attention to anything Anne had to say. “Would you ever want a flower like that? Would something like that ever belong in your garden?” 

Though Delphine had been stunned speechless by the by the carnivorous flower, her face twisted into disgust at the thought of ever owning one. She shook her head slowly, scowling as if she’d smelled something sour.

“What flowers would you rather have instead?” 

“The pretty blue ones from momma’s garden!” Dellie decided. 

“Exactly. Just like flowers, some people just  _ belong  _ in your life. They’re the people that you like to see and be around. You sometimes don’t know why you need them, but they’re there. A bosom friend isn’t just any flower from the garden. It’s a friend that makes your heart swell up big like a balloon because you’re so happy to be with them. It’s someone you really love.” 

Delphine took in this flurry of information quietly, considering with all the seriousness her young brain could muster. 

“So you really love Uncle Gil?” 

Anne flushed, knowing that Delphine didn’t know quite what she was asking, and forced a smile on her face. 

“I do, Dellie.” 

The little girl spun to look in the doorway with the brightest smile she’d ever donned. Anne looked up from her bread, meeting eyes with Gilbert who was gazing at her with eyes heavy with some unnameable emotion. 

“Uncle Gil! Did you know that you’re Aunt Anne’s bosom friend because she loves you very much?” 

Gilbert’s eyes snapped to Anne, but he was quick to cover up his surprise.

“I did!” he replied easily, though his eyes spoke a message that was much more timid. 

“Then is she one of your bosom friends? ‘Cause you love her very much too?” 

“That’s right, honeybee.”

But he wasn’t looking at Delphine. For a moment, Anne felt like leaving her doughy bread on the table and running back home to Green Gables. Gilbert loved her as a friend, certainly, but the way he’d say it just then meant  _ more,  _ and that terrified her. But as soon as he gave her a small smile, Anne’s worries melted away. A barely perceivable thought flitted into the back of her mind - What if she didn’t mind the romantic look in his eyes? What if it’s what she wanted? Unable to fight the urge to return the shy smile, Anne’s gaze lingered on him without her realizing it. 

Delphine, on the other hand, was entirely oblivious to the moment transpiring between the two blooming adults. She grew bored with the silence, and hopped onto the floor, scurrying across the room to the door. 

“Kay! Well, I’m going to go look for bosom flower friends in the Enchanted Orchard,” Delphine said sliding out. 

“Be back before supper!” Gilbert called before the door could slam shut behind her. 

Later that night, when the sun had begun to hug the horizon in a far off place Dellie wasn’t allowed to travel to - Daddy had told her so - she skipped back to the house with a handful of flowers that she wanted to give Aunt Anne. That way, Aunt Anne could have  _ more  _ bosom friends, since sometimes Uncle Gil was a little serious. But what she found in the living room gave her pause.

There was Aunt Anne and Uncle Gil standing in the middle of the living room, so close together that Delphine was sure they’d hug each other. Isn’t that was bosom friends did? He was tall compared to her, and Anne had to look up to stare into his eyes. They were speaking to each other, but it was too quiet for Dellie to hear. Most of the time they used words that were too big for her to understand, anyways. 

She’d had never seen people act like this before. Uncle Gil’s hands held Anne’s, but instead of looking happy, Anne looked like she’d seen something very scary. Surely Uncle Gil didn’t  _ scare  _ Anne. They always smiled when they were together. Dellie had a vague thought that the scene looked right out of her fairy tale books, and Aunt Anne was the most beautiful princess in all of Avonlea. Her prince looked like he agreed. 

Just as Gilbert bowed his head and grazed his lips against Anne’s, Delphine broke the silence with her unmistakable, curious voice.

“What are you doing?” 

The pair split apart across the room quicker than a stray cat darting from sight. Uncle Gil leaned on the window, hiding his face from Anne with a vengeance. Even Dellie could see the gears turning in his head, but she didn’t know why. 

“What do you have there?” Anne deflected, voice shaking.

“I brought you some flowers so you would have  _ lots  _ of bosom friends.” 

Anne let out a half-hysterical laugh and leaned over to hug the blessed child, a tear sliding down her cheek. 

“These are lovely, Delphine, but I don’t need more bosom friends! Not when I have  _ you! _ ” 

Delphine’s own eyes became misty at that, and she clung to Anne with determined fierceness. Later that night, Dellie told her father all about her new bosom friend and how excited she was to see her again. 

But Aunt Anne did not come back to the Blythe-Lacroix house for many, many months. 

*

**1904.**

Anne once told Delphine that she had a thing called  _ empathy.  _ She’d taken the little girl’s hands in hers and kissed the backs of her palms.  _ It means that when people are happy, you’re happy. And when people are sad, you’re sad. You feel the things they do, and it makes you such a beautiful soul.  _ Empathy then became Dellie’s new favorite word. She explored outside and felt the peace of the trees, and the exhaustion of Uncle Gil’s bees as they labored away. She felt the warmth of the growing flowers and the joy of some of the neighbor kids laughing in the forest. She took on the world’s heart and made it her own, and by the time she came home, she was ready to just be Delphine. 

Dellie moved through her quiet house, smiling at the lingering scent of fresh bread Dad had made a few hours ago. Just as she was about to head to her room for a nap, she heard a quiet sniffle come from inside Uncle Gil’s room. 

She knocked on the door - as she’d been taught by stern faces - but Uncle Gil didn’t answer. Nudging the door open with worried fingers, Dellie’s heart plummeted to the floor. Uncle Gilbert was lying on his bed, a few tears dripping from the corners of his jaw. His eyes were blank, but when he saw Dellie standing in the doorway, he turned his face away and quickly wiped away his tears.

“No, it’s okay, isn’t it?” Dellie rambled. “You always tell me it’s okay if I cry. You can cry too...if you want.” 

She couldn’t see his face, but she did hear the quiet sob that escaped his lips. For a moment, Delphine wasn’t sure what to do. Uncle Gil always had an explanation, a reassuring word, but this time he was the one crying. It would’ve been easier if he said that he was okay, because then the utter sadness blooming in Dellie for her uncle would’ve disappeared. Suddenly, she didn’t like having empathy anymore. She just wanted Uncle Gil to feel better.

Climbing into the bed, Delphine hugged Gilbert from behind and nuzzled her nose into his back. Gilbert’s hand came up and grabbed hers lightly. 

“Why are you crying, Uncle Gil?” she asked quietly. His back rose and fell against her as he took in a deep breath. 

“Sometimes you lose things, honeybee, and you cry because they’re gone,” he whispered. 

“What did you lose?” 

Uncle Gil didn’t answer. Delphine wondered for a moment if he’d heard her, but stopped herself from asking again. When she was this sad, she never liked to talk about it. She liked to be quiet. So for a few long minutes, Delphine held Gilbert the way he’d always held her when she cried. 

Eventually Gilbert turned around, bashful because of his red eyes. But Delphine didn’t laugh or tease. She only wiped away the tear streaks with her thumbs and pressed her lips to his cheek. 

“I love you, Uncle Gil.” 

Another tear slid down Gilbert’s nose. 

“I love you too, honeybee.” 

She thought for a moment, then offered, “When I’m sad, I like to be around my friends. Should I go get Daddy for you? Or Aunt Anne?” 

Something in what she said made Gilbert’s face darken with heartsickness, but he had the strength to shake his head. 

“You’re all the company I need,” was all he said. 

(When she was all grown Delphine would ask Gilbert about that occurrence - her, exploring his expansive library, and him, completing patient records. The question had left her lips in the quiet of the night: why had he been crying alone in his bed all those years ago? Was it because he missed his father?

But Gilbert only peered down at the gold band around his finger and gave a sad little smile. No, he’d said. That was the day he’d first proposed to Anne. It hadn’t gone well, and though it ended up okay in the end, the devastation that broke Gilbert’s heart in half had been very real. 

“It must’ve been hard. To be strong for me when I was so young and didn’t understand,” she murmured. 

Gilbert shook his head. 

“You understood, Del. You understood better than anyone.” 

These quiet talks in his office were decades away, but the moments leading up to them were ones that Delphine would hold onto always. )

*

**1906.**

_ Knock knock knock. _

Anne’s fog laden eyes rose from the tea kettle, but she didn’t have the strength to turn around. Still, it could’ve been Doctor Ward, or Elijah, or...someone important. She just needed a few more moments to collect herself. 

“Delphine, could you see who that is, please?” Anne paused before adding, “If it’s a stranger, I’ll answer it.” 

The little girl of nearly eight had been solemn at the table, sipping her tea to keep herself from asking questions. Questions, it seemed, made Anne cry.  _ What was Uncle Gil sick with? Why can’t I go see him? Is he going to die?  _ She’d asked them all once, and that had been enough to learn that she should never ask them again. At Anne’s request, though, she rose from the table and swung open the door. 

Before her was a very tall, very beautiful woman who looked like one of the dolls girls brought to school. Her hair reminded Delphine of stories of Goldilocks, and she smiled down at the little girl with warmth that made Dellie shrink away. Returning to Anne’s side, she muttered, “I’m sorry, I don’t know who it is.” 

Anne nodded, and she turned with heavy movements, only to jolt at the face in the doorway. In all the different instances Anne had seen Winifred Rose, she’d never been displeased to see her. But something about the hopeful, desperate look on the woman’s face made Anne’s stomach turn sour. 

The women were silent for several moments. Winifred seemed to be aware of the thin ice in the kitchen, and maintained her position in the doorframe.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Miss Rose?” Anne stated, perhaps unfairly caustically. 

“I heard Gilbert is sick.” 

Delphine’s eyebrows shot up. How did this woman know Uncle Gil? 

“I’m sorry, but you can’t see him,” Anne replied.

“And why not?” Winifred had matched Anne’s stern tone. 

“Because  _ he’s sick. _ He’s contagious. _ ”  _

“It’s  _ typhoid,  _ Anne. I’m not going to drink his bedside water. I just came to-” 

“To what?” 

Winifred didn’t answer right away. A tender spot in Anne’s chest made itself known, revealing some of her hidden fears. What if Winifred Rose was here to make amends with the young man she’d turned away all those years ago? Would he be happy to have her by his side? Anne clenched her teeth. What right did this woman have? To come into this house now when he was already halfway gone, when  _ Anne  _ had been the one nursing him, changing his chamber pot and wiping his sweat? What right did Winifred Rose have to come in and  _ suggest  _ that she- 

Delphine’s hand buried itself in the skirts of Anne’s dress, and Anne brought an arm up to wrap around Dellie’s back. No matter how scary it was that Uncle Gil was sick, or that Anne was fighting with a woman in the kitchen, Delphine always felt safe as long as Anne was beside her. It was the innocent child at her side that reined back Anne’s fury.

“I came to say goodbye,” Miss Rose said finally. “Dr. Ward said the case is dire. I just wanted to see him one last-” 

But just like that, the rage was back. Anne tore away from Delphine and stepped into Winifred’s space, jabbing a finger into her perfect pale face. 

“Do  _ not  _ speak that way around her. She’s already frightened enough,” she whispered sharply. “Do not come into this house and suggest that he won’t recover.”

Understanding washed over Winifred, and she peered over Anne’s shoulder at the frightened daughter of a widow. Maybe Anne hadn’t only been speaking of Delphine. 

“Anne,” she began, voice compassionate. “I know this isn’t fair to you. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have to be strong for Delphine. I know that you love him, and to have to watch him wither away with all your history still unresolved must be awful. Trust me, I know what’s it’s like to have regrets, but I didn’t come here today to resolve any. I came by to say goodbye to a friend, and to check up on another. You’re a stronger woman than I am, Anne Shirley Cuthbert. It’s unfair, all of it. And I’m sorry.” 

Anne’s eyes were concrete, and she glared at Winifred as if she were the plague doctor delivering Typhoid directly to Gilbert. But she wasn’t. She was an old friend, one who cared for her and Gilbert very much, even if she did surface for Anne all of her tired insecurities. 

“That’s not true,” Anne stated, face still hard. “If you loved someone enough, you’d do it for them. You’d see you could weather it.” 

Right at that moment, a cry of agony resounded through the house from the room above. Agony and fear filled Anne’s eyes, and she looked like she might collapse into Winifred’s arms, but she heard a tiny whimper behind her. 

Delphine Lacroix was shaking, frightened for her life and for her uncle’s. She wished she was in some other house where she couldn’t hear him in so much pain. It was all too much, she didn’t want to be here- 

Anne knelt to the ground and wrapped Delphine in her warm arms. The little girl wept and wept into Anne’s shoulder. 

“Shhh, honeybee. Remember what I said? Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Anne soothed. “He’s going to be alright. He’s stubborn, just like us, you’ll see.” 

Eventually Delphine’s tremors lessened and she pulled back. Anne kissed her forehead before rising to her feet. Behind them, Winifred’s face had grown pale. 

“How long as he been like this?” she uttered quietly. 

“Two weeks, getting worse by the day. The doctor says it won’t be long now.” Delphine shuddered. Long now until what? “You can’t come into the room, but you can see him from the doorway. Would that please you, Miss Rose?”

Winifred nodded, only moments away from taking it all back. For a life spent seeing sick people every day, she’d never been so frightened. Delphine took her by the hand and followed behind Anne up the hollow, rickety stairs. 

Even when the door to Gilbert’s bedroom opened and released the scent of disease out into the hallway, the little girl at her side did not falter. Not when her uncle was thin and colorless under his blankets. Not when he released a groan of pain in his sleep. 

Sebastian was at the young man’s side, wiping sweat from Gilbert’s brow with dark eyes. Anne took the cloth from his hands, gesturing for him to sit down across the room and rest. She leaned over Gilbert’s bedside, taking in the withering face of the man she loved beyond all measure, and bit her lips against a sob. When Anne leaned over and pressed her trembling lips to Gilbert’s forehead, a tiny tear slipped down Dellie’s cheek. 

Finding her voice, Delphine began to recite a prayer she’d forgotten she knew under the softness of her breath. 

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. And where there is sadness, joy…”

Uncle Gil would always joke that her prayer saved his life - along with the heavenly favor of her mother who’d had a partiality to prayer. But he also attributed his health to the tender attentions of Anne, and when he learned she’d barely left his side in his illness, he all but dissolved into bliss.

It was in the days following the turn of Gilbert’s illness that Delphine realized just what Aunt Anne was to Gilbert, and what Gilbert was to Aunt Anne. She’d known it instinctively, realized she’d been watching them grow all along. 

But if she needed any confirmation, she had it the day the weather turned warm and the rain broke away - just thirteen days after Uncle Gil’s fever broke. Dellie was walking along the outer edges of the orchard collecting flowers for the house when she saw Uncle Gil pass by a few rows over. At first, Dellie was merely delighted to see him up and walking away without swaying in dizziness. It was only when he let out a loud cry of laughter that she realized he was walking as fast as he could  _ toward  _ something. 

Anne met him halfway, falling into his arms with a grateful cry that made all the apple blooms on the trees keen to the sound. If Gilbert had been healthier, he might’ve lifted her up and spun her around, but his muscles were still gaining their strength back and Anne seemed to be the one doing the supporting. She was glad to do it, and she showered his face and hair with kisses and tears. 

In the warm Avonlea sunlight, surrounded by the apple trees Gilbert’s father had planted all those years ago, Anne took her love by the face and finished what they’d started in his parlor all those years ago. Their kiss swept the wind into the trees and birdsong into the air. It was strange to a child’s eye, but Delphine still recognized euphoria when she saw it. 

*

**1907.**

Delphine could count on one hand the things she  _ really _ knew about weddings. One - she knew that when Uncle Gil and Anne had their wedding, they would be husband and wife, like Momma and Dad had been. Two - she knew that Aunt Anne would wear the prettiest white dress Dellie had ever seen. Three - she knew that Anne had to have something, blue. Dellie wasn’t sure why this was, but she decided to give Anne her prized blue button, the big one that came from one of Momma’s old coats. Four - she knew that Uncle Gil and Anne weren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding. She was still trying to find a fifth thing she knew for sure, since she never trusted what the girls said at school.

That’s why when she heard Aunt Anne’s laughter on the back porch the day of the wedding, she froze in her tracks. Peering outside the window overlooking the porch, Dellie found Anne and Uncle Gil hugging against one of the beams. His face was buried in her neck, and Aunt Anne laughed with a sunny grin. Gilbert held the side of Anne’s face and pressed a kiss to her other cheek, whispering a sweet secret into her freckles. Roses flooded onto Anne’s face, but she kissed him anyways, smiling into his lips. 

Delphine had seen enough. She swung the door open and tapped her foot like a parent catching a misbehaving child. Uncle Gil pulled away from his love, but kept an arm wrapped around her waist, smirking down at the stern little girl.

“Yes Delphine?”

“You aren’t supposed to see each other!” she exclaimed. 

“Oh sweetheart, that’s just a superstition,” Aunt Anne explained, though Dellie’s nose crinkled at the word. “Besides, I’m here to collect you. You wanted us to get dressed together, remember? Like princesses.” 

Dellie’s resolve crumbled a little as she remembered  _ why  _ Aunt Anne was here. She’d always wanted to watch her mother dress in all the old dresses that were left in her trunk, the hidden gems with the baby blue lace and soft fabric. Anne’s wedding dress was a lot like it, extravagant with all its elegant details and beads, and she’d been dying to see Anne get dressed in it. 

“Alright,” Delphine decided eventually. “I don’t understand why you aren’t allowed to see each other anyways, so I guess it’s okay.” 

By the end of the day, Delphine could fill a book with all the wonderful things she’d learned about weddings. She learned that brides sat in front of their mirrors while they did their hair, speaking the way women in love do about the future. Anne was quiet, her thoughts only on the incomparable man who was likely adjusting his tie in front his own mirror. Miss Diana and Aunt Marilla chatted as they tied Anne into her dress and adjusted the lacy skirts to perfection, but Delphine could only stare up in wonder. She felt a strange homesickness for the woman she’d grow to be, even if she couldn’t name the feeling, and ached to one day wear a wedding dress of her own. 

She couldn’t explain why her throat was oddly caught as she watched Uncle Gil and Aunt Anne stand in the Blythe Orchard together. Maybe it was the way they clutched at each other’s hands, or breathed out their hellos to each other the way people said prayers. It could’ve been the birdsong in the trees that sounded just what Dellie imagined angels sounded like when they sang. With the sweet morning sun on her face, she could not be aware of her own wisdom - how somewhere in the depths of her heart, she recognized the coming together of two souls. And when Uncle Gilbert slid a glimmering golden band on to Anne’s finger, Delphine finally understood what marriage meant. 

The fragrance of the sweet apple blossoms swept over Delphine’s nose as she listened intently to the reverent vow that one day she might repeat herself. 

“I take you, Gilbert Blythe, matched to my intellect, proponent of my happiness, friend of my heart, to be my life mate and my husband. I promise to have you and hold you - for better, for worse as long as we both shall live.”

Uncle Gilbert repeated the words smiling so much that Delphine’s own grin split her face in two. When he pulled his bride into his arms and kissed her, cheers of jubilation sounded from their friends, family, and small Delphine, of whom no one was happier. 

*

**1908.**

“I didn’t realize then that Aunt Anne would be moving into this house,” Delphine admitted to Uncle Gil as he listened to her finish her story. “I really liked going to your wedding. I wish I could go back to that day and do it all over again.” 

Uncle Gilbert smiled warmly, rubbing Dellie’s shoulders affectionately. 

“Me too, honeybee, me too.” Suddenly, Delphine took his cheeks into her hands and stared seriously into his face. His cheeks squished against her hands as he smiled. “What are you doing?” 

“Memorizing every little detail about you so that I can write it down. Now I think I might need Aunt Anne’s help, there’s a lot of pieces of your face to know.” 

“I’m sure I’d be happy to help out,” called a warm, familiar voice. Dellie dropped her hands, launched herself out of Uncle Gil’s lap, and fell into Aunt Anne’s warm hug. She loved the way Anne ran her fingers over her hair, and smiled into Anne’s apron when she felt a kiss deposited on the top of her head. 

“How was your trip to Kingsport?” Dellie asked when she pulled back. 

“Very productive. My publisher is quite pleased with this new draft of  _ Averil’s Atonement, _ ” Anne answered nonchalantly. She turned to her side where Gilbert had wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She kissed him gently, fixing a sprig of hair in his eyes. “Hello darling.”

Gilbert slid his arm to her waist, glancing down at her flat stomach to see if there had been any growth of the baby sleeping there. It was still much too early to expect any sort of noticeable difference, but the presence of his own child in the room was delightfully distracting. He was anxious to meet the baby, to hold her and see her play with Delphine, to teach her everything he knew. 

“It looked like I walked in on a serious conversation. What are you two scheming up this time?” 

“Delphine has it in her head that she’d like to start practicing her prose composition. I can’t  _ possibly  _ begin to imagine where she learned that from.” 

Anne grinned at this - this news delighting her even more than her publisher’s satisfaction. 

“I want to write about your love story with Uncle Gilbert!” Delphine explained excitedly. Anne snuck a pleased glance at her husband.

“That’s my favorite story! You’ll let me be your editor, won’t you?” Anne pleaded. Dellie laughed and nodded, slightly embarrassed at her Aunt’s eagerness. 

“I have to write it down first!” 

Gilbert’s ears perked up at this. 

“Speaking of which, give me just a moment.” 

Uncle Gil hastened from the room, only to return a few moments later with something in his hands that made Dellie’s pulse quicken. She beheld the journal of caramel gold with a momentous feeling in her chest. As Gilbert handed her the journal, he knew he was handing her a world of possibilities, and an endless expanse of possibilities. She could write the mysteries of the Universe, or solve suffering with her words. When she grew older, if she wrote for real, she’d gift the world with her uncomparable spirit in a way that would cause ripples in her readers. 

But for now, Gilbert thought there was nothing he’d love to read more than the story of how he fell in love through the bright eyes of his wondrous girl. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! ♥ If you ever want to chat, come find me on tumblr ~ @royalcordelia!


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